


Like I Don’t Know Better

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: Alpha/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Book Freddie Lounds (so a dude), Bribery, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, I dont know how fbi works, M/M, OOC, Pre-book red dragon, Therapist and Patient, Wolf AU, Wolf traits, alphas/omegas can shift, based more off of books, discrimination mentioned, hannibal may be a cannibal ...?, i haven’t decided, mild violence, or well blackmail sort of, warning:language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-10-31 08:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17846387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: You don’t give me the impression that you actually believe that, Agent Graham.”“Then maybe you should look a little closer, Dr. Lecter,” Will near-growled.





	1. Don’t wanna drown no more

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve finally written something for these two involving Alpha/Omega dynamics which is something i’ve been wanting to do for a long time. This is just going to be a series of glimpses into Hannibal’s and Will’s growing relationship and how this world affects them. Also lots of self-indulgent shit haha
> 
> Edit: felt like I should put a warning here: this is based much more off of the book universe. So there are a few changes if you’re here from the show, such as Lounds being a man, Will being an agent, trained by Jack, etc. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you like it—I love hearing from you! Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> Title and chapter titles inspired by lyrics of “Wolves” by Rag n Bone Man

_I_ _can’t_ _believe_ _I’m_ _doing_ _this_ _shit_.

Will sat in the very back of the waiting room and sulked. The clock on the wall across from him ticked away, picking at his nerves like an itch. The air was choked with the scent of old voices, people passing through with their lint and imprints on seats. He was tired, he was hungry, and this was all Jack’s fault.

“Agent Graham?”

Will glanced up, not bothering to conceal the less-than-pleased look on his face. So this was Dr. Lecter, huh? The psychiatrist everyone had raved about (and whom Jack had recommended Will to, unfortunately). Will swept his gaze over the other man with hardly a thought. Tall, lithe, dark-haired and neat. He held himself with a quiet self-assuredness that somehow didn’t translate to arrogance. _Intelligent_ — _too_ _much_ _for_ _his_ _own_ _good_ — _alpha_. _Precise_. _Probably_ _gonna_ _try_ _to_ _pick_ _my_ _brain_ _apart_ _like_ _fucking_ _Lounds_.

“Dr. Lecter,” he greeted, the entire deduction occurring within a moment within Will’s mind. It was meant to be private, but he thought he could see a knowing sheen in Lecter’s maroon eyes.

“Please, feel free to call me Hannibal,” Lecter replied cordially. “Jack Crawford told me you would be coming today.”

Of course he did. “Yeah. Did he add how pissed I was about it?” Standing, Will trudged his way over, shoulders hunched unapologetically.

“He only had praise for you, actually. Quite fond of you, as I take it.” Lecter stepped aside, holding the door open for him.

Subconscious as it was, it was then that Will inhaled his scent. Something sweet, and faintly like spice, hit his lungs. _Omega_. He straightened his back, flicked a look up at Lecter’s face.

Lecter’s expression hinted at nothing, but his gaze was all Will needed to see to know that he could tell Will had noticed.

As far as first impressions went, Will supposed it could’ve been worse. He did feel mildly ashamed that he had been caught acting like seeing an omega was such a momentous event; he didn’t care what Dr. Lecter was, as long as he made this altercation as painless as possible. But he had been so sure of his initial observations of the man, that he couldn’t help but be jarred by the realization.

After they’d both taken their respective, leather seats and exchanged the customary exchange of a new patient and psychiatrist, Will studied Lecter again. If he had to be analyzed by the man, he might as well do the same in return—privately, of course.

“So, Will,” Lecter began, with a small wave of the hand, “I know why Jack Crawford thought you needed to see me, but what’s your opinion?”

Will arched a brow. “I was under the impression that my opinion didn’t matter.”

“And I was under the impression that I would be treating a patient.”

“Which means..?”

“Well, if you don’t believe that you need any help from me, I can hardly strap you to the chair and force it upon you.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Will lifted his chin a bit. “Okay, fair point.”

“So…?”

“But I don’t need any help.”

Lecter gave him a long long look. While his facial features didn’t change, Will felt as though those late-sunset eyes were piercing straight through him to the back of his skull. It was a moment before he took a breath. “You don’t give me the impression that you actually believe that, Agent Graham.”

“Then maybe you should look a little closer, Dr. Lecter,” Will near-growled.

“Oh, I intend to,” was the somewhat snarky reply and Will bristled, ears hot. Before he could say another word, however, Lecter had plucked a folder from his desk and held it out to him. Will scowled down at it, then back up at the doctor. “Newspaper clippings and a few notes on your case,” Lecter explained. “I’ve been following it, of course—Crawford likes to keep me in touch in case he finds himself in need of help. And, in this case, if you should need any help.”

Will narrowed his eyes. Sudden shift of topic, and to his work, of all things. _What’re_ _you_ _playing_ _at_? “Yeah…?”

“I’ve been told you were rather perplexed with the nature of the killing? How exactly the victims came to be found where they were?” Lecter flipped open the folder, skimming a couple of lines.

“Yes, I was— we were. What does that have to do with—?”

“I’d like to be of assistance to you, Agent Graham. If you’ll allow me.” There was a deliberate weight to those words and Lecter met Will’s eyes over the folder.

Will’s mouth dropped open. That fucking— “Are you _bribing_ me with information on a murder?” he demanded. “You can’t withhold crap just because I won’t take your damn therapy.”

“No, but Ican withhold information from _you_ , and simply pass it on to Crawford.”

“You can’t push me out of my own job!”

“I can certainly try. At the very least, I can cause some irritation.” Lecter smiled, slow and wolfish, and closed the folder again. “What do you say, Agent Graham?”

Will was going to actually punch him. This—this stupid doctor was going to go behind his back with Crawford on a case, _just_ to be an annoying little _shit_ , to force Will into therapy. Lecter’s primly folded hands and glint of fang said it all—he knew how much this was going to frustrate Will, and Will was already frustrated by most anything that so much as breathed near him.

“I say, fuck. You. Dr. Lecter,” Will snapped back, biting around the words.

But he didn’t get up from his seat.

Lecter tossed the folder onto his desk with faint, but obvious cheer.

Yes, Will was definitely going to punch him


	2. sick of the same old people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you working together?” Lounds demanded abruptly, eyes wide. “Ohh, I can write about that: ‘desperate, psycho-catching cop turns to his omega therapist for help.’ Sounds good, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lot of fun for me to write and i wanted to explore more of the alpha/omega dynamics in this little world of mine.  
> Characters may be OOC, because i base these more of off teh book series, rather than the movies o TV show.  
> Enjoy! :3

The interior of the temporary FBI headquarters here was a place of bleak lighting and bleaker faces. Stress and gunmetal hung heavy on the air and tickled the back of Hannibal’s tongue, along with a tangled multitude of alpha and omega scents. Perhaps surprisingly, this place was not dominated by alphas, a welcome change from some work environments. Not that it mattered.

Hannibal Lecter carried himself with the same sure calm that he did in everything he put his mind to.He was not easily deterred by some domineering alpha that thought they could pin him down, no matter what they might try to say about “omega biology.”

He sniffed derisively as a burly alpha officer trudged past him, not masking the frown he shot in Hannibal’s direction. _Pathetic_.

His mood was slightly lifted when he caught sight of the reason for his visit today: Special Agent Will Graham stood near the end of the hall, beside the doors leading to the front entrance of the building. He looked as painfully bothered as ever, and was talking to a short, blabbering man. Hannibal read the exasperation in Will’s hunched shoulders and repressed a chuckle. He knew that look well.

While their sessions together had remained somewhat tense after that first time, Will had loosened more and more with the doctor as the weeks passed by. And Hannibal couldn’t deny that something else besides Will’s amusing irritability drew him in. Something more, something that felt almost _equal_.

Ah, no matter. Plenty of time to mull over his concerning fascination with a patient later.

He strolled up to said patient, just in time to hear, “Lounds, if you say one more idiotic thing about this goddamned murder, I’m going to throw you out of here, okay?”

 _Freddie_ _Lounds_. Hannibal had heard such wonderful things about him in one of their sessions.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Will,” Lounds drawled, beady eyes glinting as though he thought he was going to weasel his way around the situation. “I just wanna ask a couple of questions! It’s for the newspaper—you know that people need to hear about what’s going on in their own town.”

“Not when it’s a load of bullshit written up by you,” Will shot back.

“So I exaggerate the truth a little. No big deal, all newspapers do. The point is, I’m giving the public what they want and you aren't.”

“I’m the one who’s gonna give them their murderer in a straightjacket, not you, no matter what you think your garbage paper does.” Huffing, Will shoved his hands in his pockets; he felt the need to do something with his hands when he was angry, and breaking noses wasn’t exactly the best choice. He flicked a glance at Hannibal then, having noticed his presence, and softened around the edges. “Oh, hi, Dr. Lecter.”

“Good morning, Will.” Hannibal dipped his head. “When you have a moment, I thought you’d want to come to my office this evening? There are some details in the case file that have come to my attention and I—”

“Are you working together?” Lounds demanded abruptly, eyes wide. “Ohh, I can write about _that_ : ‘desperate, psycho-catching cop turns to his omega therapist for help.’ Sounds good, right?” He threw Hannibal a sneer that was as much contemptuous as it was twisted flirting, especially on the emphasis of _omega_.

Hannibal didn’t respond, and inhaled a bit to confirm that Lounds was, indeed, an alpha with a superiority issue.

“Get out,” Will ordered. His words were steel and he held himself unnaturally still. “Now, Lounds.”

“What? It sounds great, it’ll get you a lotta publicity.” Lounds turned on Hannibal again. “Besides, I don’t think the little omega minds being in the spotlight, right, ‘Doctor?’”

Hannibal offered him a polite smile. “My name is Dr. Lecter, Mr. Lounds, and I would appreciate it if you would call me such. Furthermore, if you happen to call me anything like what you just said again, I’m afraid I’ll have to publish something about you in one of my psychology articles.” He tipped his head to one side, holding eye contact. “I’m sure others would love to hear what sort of…mental capacity you lack.”

Lounds spluttered and the side of Will’s mouth turned up.

“Back off!” Lounds blustered, lip curling. Teeth bared and body stiff, pupils slimming. If he couldn't hold himself in check, he'd shift right there. Weak man.

“Careful, Mr. Lounds,” Hannibal warned softly. His body reacted, the smallest of submissive instincts blasted away by the urge to show fangs and snap.

Will’s face had gone cold as he took in Lounds’ body language. “If you fucking shift in here,” he told Lounds, “I will too. And you will _not_ like me angry.”

“Then tell your omega bitch to watch his mouth.”

“Tell me yourself,” Hannibal interjected. Lounds’ gaze flashed but Hannibal advanced on him, drawing himself up. “But only if you're comfortable with an ‘omega bitch’ humiliating you.”

Lounds paled.

To humiliate another wolf was to assert one’s dominance over another, and it was primarily done between feuding alphas or by an alpha over an omega. Hannibal knew how much it stung to have an omega tower over a disgusting, discriminating alpha and he _reveled_ in it. He would never display the rudeness of shifting or squabbling in a workplace, but the threat was backed up by experience, and he didn't hide that.

“I—I— well—” Lounds glanced from Hannibal to Will, as though he was going to find some kind of help there. Will raised his eyebrows: _move_ _along_ , _pal_. Frowning, Lounds fell into a shamed slump, heat spreading to his ears. “I'll be back,” he muttered as a scrappy departure, and quickly shuffled away. The double doors slammed satisfyingly behind his back.

Blowing out a heavy breath, Will ran a hand over his hair. “Shit, Dr. Lecter, I'm sorry. That guy’s a real prick, I told you about him.”

“It's quite all right, Will,” Hannibal replied, feeling his muscles unwind with the absence of Lounds.

“No, it's not.” Will scuffed a toe over the floor. “I can't believe he said that shit about you—being an omega.”

“I’m accustomed to it. There is no shortage of discriminating alphas and I have dealt with many, I assure you.”

Will’s gaze was heavy, almost embarrassed. “You know I don't feel that way, right? I'd never think… I don’t expect you to have to do as I say because I'm an alpha, and I definitely don't view you as—as _my_ omega.”

Hannibal chuckled, a lightening of the mood. “It would take much more than Freddie Lounds to convince me that you view me as a lesser person. I hold none of what's happened against you, Will.”

“Okay. Okay, good.” Nodding, Will sighed. “I’m too unstable for this shit,” he grumbled, and Hannibal smiled.

“Perhaps I should write my next article on you instead.”

“Shut up.”


	3. Nothing in this life for free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will was closing in on him fast and in a half a second, he'd be close enough to reach out for the man’s shoulder. One step, two, three, his arm shot out to grab and—  
> They burst from the alley and a hard bulk slammed into Will from the right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a short one, but the next will be coming soon! :)

“Are you sure that we have to question this guy?” Jack asked in annoyance, trudging along the sidewalk behind Will. The pavement was cracked beneath his feet and the houses around them gazed down through split windows. “This place creeps the hell out of me, and it's not close to where our crime took place.”

“He was there,” Will answered. He paused at a corner, hands hanging in his jacket pockets as he glanced both ways along the wrapper-littered street. “His vehicle was reported by a gas station close to the house, he stops there every day. If anyone’s gonna notice anything out of place that day, it's someone whose morning routine includes stopping next door.”

Jack huffed, because of course Will was right, and exchanged a tired glance with Hannibal alongside him. “Well, I'm getting a coffee once we take him somewhere for the questioning. It's too early for this shit.”

“Of course,” Hannibal commented lightly.

Laughing a bit, Will glanced over his shoulder. “Why don't you handle the questioning yourself, Jack? You sound so thrilled.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jack returned. “I always—”

“There!” Suddenly, Will halted. A few yards away, a man stood by a bus stop, scruffy and dark-eyed in a flannel jacket. His head lifted at their footsteps. Will started forward again, quickening his pace.

“Sir?” Jack called, with a conversational smile. “We’re—”

He didn't make it any farther. The man’s gaze fell to the glimpse of Will’s shoulder holster under his jacket and his eyes widened. Without a word, he took off, jolting off the sidewalk and into the street. An approaching car blared as Will tailed him at once, not bothering to say a word to Hannibal and Jack. He heard them call his name and then their pounding footsteps; they faltered as the car cut them off and then Will was ahead, just him and the flannel back fleeing before him.

The man cut into an alleyway, spinning to send trash cans and rusty bikes toppling over behind him. Will weaved around them, swearing when his jacket was almost torn by a twisted bike spoke. His breath came fast, bringing the taste of the man’s fear to his tongue. Panic lent the guy speed, but he wasn't a trained FBI agent. Will was closing in on him fast and in a half a second, he'd be close enough to reach out for the man’s shoulder. One step, two, three, his arm shot out to grab and—

They burst from the alley and a hard bulk slammed into Will from the right.

An elbow sliced into his ribs and he grunted, going down hard. His shoulder cracked against the pavement, then his head, and he hissed as his vision jolted. Then there was a man on top of him, tall and thick, reeking of alpha and cigarettes. His fist connected with Will’s face, blooming pain across his jaw. Head jerked to the side, Will tasted blood and tried to shake the stunned pause from himself; there was a hand under his jacket, fumbling at his holster. Snarling, he brought his fist up into the man’s throat and heard him choke out a shout.

By now, the flanneled man was nowhere to be seen. “ _Shit_ —!” Will drew up his legs and threw the other man off of him with a hard kick. Wiping his bloody mouth, he shoved himself up off the pavement and drew his gun.

There was a flurry of footsteps and he just had time to hear a familiar voice shouting his name, before a _second_ body collided with his. He felt the press of fur and the overwhelming scent of an alpha she-wolf choked him. Someone had shifted. He twisted as the thing barked over him, fangs snapping shut an inch from his face. A flash of tawny brown eyes and she latched herself onto his wrist, using her body weight to pin him beneath her. Sucking in a gasping breath, Will struggled to break free as blood dripped around the wolf’s mouth on his arm. The gun clattered away and she turned on him.

“Get off!” he snapped, hoping the bark of his words and bared teeth would signal to the other that he was an alpha and he was going to fight back. He grabbed for the wolf’s neck—their most vulnerable area—and made to roll them over and take control. He expected it to be messy, expected the weight of the wolf’s bunching muscles.

He did not expect the wolf to whip her head around in his arms and sink her teeth deep into his shoulder. His jacket had slipped down one arm in the fight, and the wicked fangs ripped quickly through his shirt and then his skin. Hot red pooled into his shirt fabric. The wolf jerked her head, tearing into flesh, and Will cried out against her.

He heard a familiar bone-bending sound, fresh wolf scent hitting him.

With a growling howl, a new wolf barreled into the one holding him down and sent her flying. Slumping onto his back, Will pressed a hand to his mangled shoulder and scented the air again: _leather_ _chairs_ , _expensive_ _fabric_ , _a_ _hint_ _of_ _spice_ _amongst_ _something_ _else sweeter_. _Hannibal_.

He watched in shock as Hannibal, a great, dusky grey wolf, locked his jaws around the alpha’s ear and shredded it. Strips of bloody fur flew and the alpha yelped. Stumbling away from him, she gathered her paws under her and curled her lips back. Her pelt stood on end, body language screaming _back_ _down_.

The omega refused, fur bristling as he snarled back at her viciously.

“Will? Will!” Jack appeared then, fighting for breath. Kneeling down beside Will, he looked over his shoulder. “Shit, they really got you.”

“Yeah, I was there,” Will retorted, but lacking some of his usual snap. He couldn't tear his gaze off of the charcoal wolf, the power in those lithe shoulders, fur sleek. Despite being an omega, he had knocked the alpha she-wolf over and now loomed over her unwaveringly. Reassured a bit, the omega looked over his shoulder at Will, ears pricked. His eyes gleamed with points of red and seemed to soften when they landed on Will. Will felt the smallest of pushes against his mind, the wolf equivalent of communication: _you_ _okay_?

Will couldn’t speak, but he gave a small, shaky nod.

As Jack started to help him up, he tried to hide that his breathlessness wasn’t entirely from the fight.


	4. Finally it dawned on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You're beautiful.”   
> Hannibal paused in reaching for the bandages, and gave Will a guarded look. Realization dawned in Will’s face and he flushed. “I meant when you shifted, today. You're a beautiful wolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just an excuse for me to write some good hurt/comfort, lol   
> If the medical bits aren’t that accurate, I apologize; I tried XD 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I appreciate every comment you give me :)

_I_ _could_ _have_ _killed_ _her_.

It was the thought that had been entering Hannibal’s mind since they’d arrived back at the headquarters. There wasn’t much weight behind it, of course, but he kept thinking of it. After the altercation earlier that day, he had assured Jack that he’d only shifted because it was the fastest way to get to Will.

He left out the part about how he’d seen red the moment those people had laid their hands on Will. It had been overwhelming enough to pull him from his human form. He didn’t much like to consider the meaning behind that himself, and he didn’t need Jack delving into it too.

But god, it had felt like a high to throw that wretched she-wolf off of Will.

He had to bite down a sick smile to himself as he walked down the hall, holding a medical kit in his hands. Will had opted not to go to an emergency room, as his injuries weren’t very serious. Besides, Hannibal had practiced other forms of medicine before psychiatry and was more than happy to lend a hand.

He found the side room Jack had indicated to him earlier and gave two knocks. “Will?”

“Come in,” a tired voice called from inside.

Shouldering the door open, Hannibal stepped over the threshold and glanced around. It was a small conference room, unused at the moment. Will was perched atop one of the long tables, posture slouched with fatigue. A bloody towel was pressed to his shoulder, jacket discarded beside him. He looked up as Hannibal arrived, attention catching on the doctor’s new slacks and button-down; he’d changed into new, more casual clothes after shifting and he found that he liked the way Will looked at him now.

_Foolish_ _man_ , he scolded himself. “You’re looking better,” he said by way of greeting, with a tinge of sarcasm.

Will grunted, peeking under the towel at the mess beneath. “‘M not _feeling_ much better.”

“As expected, after one has started a fight with a wolf.”

“I didn't start it!”

“Of course not. Now let me see your shoulder.” Hannibal’s easy tone let Will know that he was joking.

Something soft gentled Will’s expression and he swallowed as Hannibal placed the medical kit beside him. “All of this,” he muttered, peeling back the towel, “and we didn't even catch him.”

“He was intelligent enough to have some friends as a distraction. It's not your fault we lost him.” Hannibal examined the torn flesh, reaching for a pair of scissors.

“I know. But I—”

“Would you rather me cut your sleeve out of the way or prefer to take this off entirely?” Hannibal cut off any protests before they were spoken. Will would take the blame like a gunshot. It would only slow him down and wound him more than this case already had.

Blinking, Will glanced down at himself. “I, uh… I guess it would be easier if I just took it off…” There was no disguising the awkward tilt to his words, but he was pulling up the hem of his shirt before Hannibal could say anything else.

It wasn't difficult for Hannibal to focus on disinfecting Will’s wound…just as it wasn't difficult to grant some attention to the agent’s bare skin laid out in front of him. He touched his teeth together, agitated. Noticing Will’s brilliant mind mirroring his own was one thing. Gawking at him just because he was shirtless was another, as small as it was.

Will hissed at the burn of the disinfectants, wincing under Hannibal’s touch. “Dammit.”

“I apologize,” Hannibal said at once. “Not much longer, now. I'm going to check to see if you need stitches.”

“Will you do it here?”

“Not if you don't wish it.”

Will met his gaze, eyes hard and very blue. “I can take it.”

Oh… The smallest of smiles played across Hannibal’s lips. _Brave_ _boy_. “After today, I find no doubt of that.”

Will hummed an affirmative and the two fell quiet. As Hannibal worked, he couldn't shake the heat left on him from Will’s eyes. Will liked to watch people, observe people, as Hannibal did. Sometimes, he wasn't subtle about it. Hannibal wondered what he was thinking and why it was so unreadable. Discreetly, he scented the air and—oh, yes, that was a mistake. He could smell the crimson tang of blood, Will’s skin, warmth, alpha, a hint of some aftershave that was so human and _Will_ , it made his chest swell. _What's_ _wrong_ _with_ _me_?

“You're beautiful.”

Hannibal paused in reaching for the bandages, and gave Will a guarded look. Realization dawned in Will’s face and he flushed. “I meant when you shifted, today. You're a beautiful wolf.”

It was a casual enough compliment between wolves, but Hannibal knew that Will didn't usually say such things. Still, he didn't comment on that. “Thank you,” he replied, plucking up the gauze and tape. “I haven't used that form in a while and I admit, it did feel freeing, despite the context.”

“It looked freeing.” Will watched him work, no longer flinching away from his touch. “You looked…powerful. You didn't— Ah, shit, I'm gonna sound really rude.”

“I know you won't mean it that way, it's all right.”

“You…didn't look like an omega.”

Hannibal couldn't hide his raised brows and Will groaned despairingly. “I knew that would sound so shitty. What I meant was… You were— When you argued with Freddie, that was while you were human. It's easy to ignore instincts then. But as a wolf…” He shrugged. “I guess I'm trying to say that I'm impressed, without being an ass.”

“Yes, you never were very good at that,” Hannibal remarked dryly. He cracked an amused grin as Will rolled his eyes. Then he sobered, wrapping the bandage around Will’s shoulder. “I appreciate what you mean though. Not many alphas would say such things.”

Will nodded.

Hannibal finished the last wrap and reached for the clips and scissors to tie it off. Just as he was securing it in place, Will’s hand fell over his own to stop him. He stilled, suddenly alert. “Will? Is something wrong?”

Will’s brow creased as he seemed to search for words. “…why did you do it?” he asked. “You never raise your voice, let alone fight.”

Hannibal was silent. There were many ways this could go and he wasn't sure that any of them were very good. But he knew Will wouldn't take any bullshit, so he settled for the simplest he could manage. “They hurt you.”

Will studied him. He hadn't moved his hand from Hannibal’s. “I'm…not used to people doing things like that for me,” he admitted. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Hannibal was starting to feel his skin prickle with their contact, but not exactly in a bad way. However, he couldn’t help but be wary. He was Will’s therapist, he was helping him on a case, and he was an omega while Will was an alpha. It could make for some _very_ scandalous news in the wrong hands.

But Will was giving him that crooked, shy smile and damn him, Hannibal was caught with it. “Don’t make me have to save you again though,” he scolded, forcing himself to pull his hand out from under Will’s. “I rather liked that suit.”

Will laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


	5. A man’s gotta fight temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hannibal wondered if Will knew how socially awkward he really was, and as a side note to that point, if he knew that he was staring at Hannibal’s neck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some fluff ;3   
> Things heat up soon though haha
> 
> Thanks again for all the feedback and support! :D

Something in their dynamic was shifting and Will wasn’t sure when exactly it had happened.

They’d gone from friendly greetings, to Hannibal’s hand lightly touching his back when he entered the room beside him. Will usually hated anybody touching him, but he found himself making exceptions for Hannibal.

“Do you think he realizes no one is listening?” Hannibal asked, low in Will’s ear.

His breath passed over the side of Will’s neck and Will had to suppress a shiver. He tore himself back to reality and sighed at their latest aid in the case, a rambling alpha doctor called Chilton. “I think we could put him in an empty room and he’d find a way to give a damn lecture,” he muttered, drawing a half-smile from Hannibal.

“He certainly seems to believe he knows what he’s doing,” Hannibal remarked.

“That just makes it more annoying.”

“Why did Jack think to bring him in?”

“I don’t know. …why'd he think to bring _you_ in, _Doctor_?”

“Now that’s hardly a fair comparison. I’m a renowned forensic psychiatrist—”

“Don’t forget humble.”

“—and I’m your therapist.”

Will wrinkled his nose. “You make it sound like I’m shitty enough at my job to need a _therapist_ with me all the time.”

“Technically, you do,” Hannibal pointed out. Will elbowed him in the side in response and pulled a warm chuckle from the doctor. Will’s heart bloomed at that, and he felt stupid for being so proud of making Hannibal Lecter laugh. He watched as Hannibal turned back to Chilton’s speech with new softness in his features. He was taller than Will by a good bit, something that was enough to tick off any shallow alpha. But Will took a guilty liking to it.

His gaze traced the arc of Hannibal’s throat and he had the sudden tug in his chest to nuzzle into Hannibal’s neck.

His thoughts fully occurred to him then and he stiffened. _Ah_ , _shit_.

 

**xxx**

 

Hannibal wondered if Will knew how socially awkward he really was, and as a side note to that point, if he knew that he was staring at Hannibal’s neck. This was the point when Hannibal took aside an obvious alpha and kindly told them to please stop considering his throat the way someone considered a steak.

However, he didn’t do that this time.

Will wasn’t looking at him like that. He looked at him with quiet awe. The way artists looked at beautiful paintings. It made Hannibal feel like a foolish, young omega again, _very_ young. It also made it increasingly difficult to ignore his instincts, which bothered him like a stubborn itch. Giving in to biological instincts by choice wasn’t necessarily a negative thing. But Hannibal hadn’t had this happen for some time—or, well, ever—and it made him feel torn in the worst of ways.

He didn’t want to give in to something he’d considered beneath him. He didn’t want to bend his rules for an alpha, the way others had always predicted he would.

But he also wanted to taste Will’s smiles and that was decidedly counterproductive.

“Ugh,” Will scoffed, bringing Hannibal back to the present. Will was frowning heavily at Chilton.

“What?” Hannibal asked. He followed Will’s gaze and found Chilton pointing at the copious amounts of blood that had been left at the crime scene.

“No regard for care here,” Chilton was saying importantly, “which is usually a sign of either confidence in avoiding capture or plain sloppiness. I suspect our killer to be an alpha, as we do tend to know what we're good at and wouldn't fear many mistakes.”

“Uh huh,” Jack deadpanned. He busied himself with his glasses. “I'm sure you wouldn't.”

Will huffed again. “What was the point of that? I mean, he takes the effort to compare himself to a killer so that he can point out the fact that he's an alpha. I'll never understand things like that.”

“Perhaps he feels threatened by Jack,” Hannibal suggested.

“But _why_? We’re all here to solve a murder. Nobody gives a damn if he's an alpha or not.”

“You're very bothered by this.”

Will sighed. “Maybe I'm too different from everyone else. I don't get the whole ‘call me alpha’ ego thing—and people actually do call their mates ‘alpha,’ why not just their name? Is it really that enjoyable?”

“I don't know,” Hannibal answered, finding a bit of humor in Will’s ranting. “I've never been called that, nor have I taken a mate. …you could ask Dr. Chilton.”

Snorting, Will flashed him a good-humored smirk, as though to say _that'll_ _be_ _the_ _day_. The corner of his mouth prompted a dimple, and his hair was tousled.

Heartbeat thudding, Hannibal sought an excuse: “I'm going to Jack’s office, see if I can't find something more than this.” He gave a dismissive nod toward Chilton.

“Okay,” Will said on a breath of laughter, and Hannibal ached.

Unable to resist, he bent to Will’s ear and lowered his voice. “If you grow tired of Frederick Chilton, feel free to stop by, alpha.” The word was tossed out under a teasing tone, and he much enjoyed the pink that flooded up Will’s neck.

He left as the agent spluttered into silence, a faint curve to his lips.


	6. keep the wolves from the door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “‘Lost’ in me,” he echoed, with a trace of joking, wanting to lift the mood to their old play. “You flirting with me, Dr. Lecter?”   
> The side of Hannibal’s mouth edged upward, maroon eyes glinting, but he didn’t comment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for how long this took me. Writer’s block decided to be a bitch this month and then when I actually did have time to write, it just kinda took off on its own into this long thing.   
> I hope that you guys still like it and please leave a comment if you did! I love hearing from you :3   
> Thank you for reading!

The cabin sat, alone and still, between the tall pines. The windows regarded him silently as he stepped forward and Jack felt a trickle of ice crawl up his spine. The place was abandoned, and had been for quite some time, judging by the vegetation creeping up its sides. But they'd received a tip and based on that and a hunch of Will’s, they believed this to be the place where their murderer resided after a kill. Not his home, no, he wouldn't do that—not intimate enough, _he_ _wants_ _somewhere_ _that's_ _just_ _his_ , something from when he was little maybe, _make_ _it_ _personal_ , Will had said.

Whoever he was, he wasn't there now. Jack could see no sign of footprints or paw prints in the soft earth, no car, windows blackened. Still, he kept a hand instinctively near his gun under his jacket, as he walked toward the wooden door. Steps behind, Will touched his shoulder. “I'm gonna go around the back,” he told Jack, that tone in his voice, the one that meant he was seeing all of this from someone else’s eyes. The blue of his irises seemed to cloud over, almost glassy.

“Sounds good.” Jack nodded, stifling a shudder. He wasn't disturbed by Will’s perfect, terrible empathy, but he did have a wary curiosity toward it. He'd never know what it felt like to have phantom blood spilling under his hands, to grin behind a gun with another person's mouth.

Shaking his head, he ventured up to the cabin wall. He avoided the door for now and leaned to try and peer into one of the cracked windows. Someone had carved a choppy set of names into the outside wood, just next to it. Children’s handwriting. _Childhood_ _cabin_? Jack peered past it through the window, but could see nothing within. His brow furrowed and he stepped back. A curtain, perhaps? Trying to black out light? Or was there something in there he didn't want anyone to find?

Jack made to walk to the door again when a _thud_ sounded from somewhere in the cabin. Freezing, he pulled in a lungful of air, but the cabin reeked of pine and an old myriad of scents. He couldn't pick out which were new, and as he strode to the door, another noise crashed deep within, followed by muffled voices. His blood ran cold. “Will?” he called, drawing his gun and struggling through the choking weeds faster.

Gunshot, birds screaming into the sky.

“ _Will_! Will, what—? Dammit!” Abandoning the latched front door, Jack took off to round the corner of the cabin, trigger under index, heart in his throat. The closer he came to the back door, the louder the sounds became—furniture rattling against walls, fragmented footsteps, and harsh, unintelligible words. Suddenly, clear as day, Will shouting in pain. Jack sped up, surprised at his own panic. Will wasn’t his son, but Jack’s heart acted as though he was and he would damn anyone who touched him.

He found the back door and didn’t pause before shouldering his way inside.

The smell of blood hit him like a truck.

 

**xxx**

 

“Jack.”

“I'm sorry, I tried to get there faster. _Damn_. I tried.”

“Jack.”

“Figures, we finally find the guy and we catch him by fucking it up and—”

“ _Jack_.” Will snapped his fingers, making the other man jump a little. “Calm down. You're not the guy who fucked it up.”

Jack seemed to swallow some protests to that, shuffling on his feet and crossing his arms. The nurse ducked around him to check on Will’s arm, her face pinched at their language.

“Yeah, but I am the guy who didn't make it there in time,” Jack pointed out.

Will gave him a flat look. “It's not like I got shot in the face, Jack. I gotta knife stuck in my hand.”

“That makes me feel better.”

“C’mon, you know what I—”

Suddenly, the rungs of the emergency room curtain squeaked as it was cast aside, and Hannibal stood there. He wore the usual suit, this one simple black, but slightly disheveled. To another, he might seem just as put together, if not a bit breathless. To Will, he looked close to panic: slick hair gone awry, tie crooked, a tremble to the hands, and a widening of the eyes. The scents of fear and anger warred in the air with Will’s blood.

Hannibal spoke, voice clear and relieved. “Will.”

“Hannibal,” Will rasped, taken aback by the surge of emotion that rocked through him.

Hannibal’s stance unwound just a bit, and it occurred to Will that he'd never called him by his first name before.

“What happened?” Hannibal demanded, entering fully into the enclosed space and straightening his jacket. The alpha nurse excused herself, darting around him.

Jack dragged his hand over his jaw. “Well, we got him. And Will was injured.”

“I blocked a knife with my hand,” Will explained, shooting him a hard glance. “Jack’s been panicking, but it's nothing.”

“And what of our killer?” Hannibal asked, with a note of a growl.

Will lost some of his breath. He almost didn't hear the question. “I—” Faltering, he blinked. “I don't know. It was fast.”

“I showed up right when you went wolf,” Jack told him quietly. “He did it first, right after he stabbed you, and I think the adrenaline and the pain did it.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “You shifted?”

Will looked at Jack helplessly. “I don't remember. Why don't I…?”

Clearing his throat, Jack looked away. “I think instinct took over. He was more animal than human—when he shifted, I almost thought he was rabid. Your body responded.”

Will suddenly felt cold. “What did I do?” he asked, trying not to sound small.

“You defended yourself,” Jack answered immediately. “You killed him defending yourself.”

Will glanced down at his bandaged hand, the red seeping through the gauze and the white of his shirtsleeve untouched above it. White, not bloodied. A new one; they'd changed his clothes for him after he'd shifted, and he hadn't even known.

He hadn't even known. He'd killed someone, and he _hadn't_ _even_ _known_.

“Jack,” Hannibal’s voice drifted through to him distantly. “I’d like to speak to my patient alone, if you don't mind.”

Will’s skin prickled at the word _patient_.

“I…. Okay, yeah, of course. I'll just, uh, be outside.” The curtain whispered around Jack’s absence and then the rest of the hospital was cut from them.

Will listened as Hannibal crossed over to his bedside, but didn't look up. A hand touched his shoulder and he almost flinched. “Will,” Hannibal said. “Jack is right. You defended yourself against a serial killer.”

“By savaging him like a wolf,” Will finished icily.

A pause. Then, “you relied on baser, survival instincts in a situation in which there was little other option.”

“I had a gun.”

“And a knife in your palm and an animal on top of you.”

“I could've shot him while he was on me.”

“While he was ripping you apart, you mean.”

“It would've—”

“If you had let that man hurt you more than he already did, I would not be speaking so lightly.” Hannibal did growl now, a deep, wolfish sound that made Will’s spine straighten.

Will slanted a hard glance up at him. “You call that speaking lightly?”

Huffing, Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. Will longed to smooth the worried creases from his face. He tried to stomp those feelings down.

“What am I to you?” he found himself asking. His voice sounded foreign to him.

Hannibal let the following silence stretch for a minute. “What are you to yourself, Will?”

Making a noise of frustration, Will raked a hand through his hair. He wanted to surge up from the bed, but everything ached and he knew better. “An alpha,” he choked out. “A stupid, _stupid_ alpha who let some—biological shit get in the way of doing a job.”

“Do you really view yourself as so little?” Hannibal asked, hushed.

Will’s throat was suddenly tight. “Don’t you?”

“No,” was the immediate answer. Hannibal truly touched him then, hand on his shoulder, long fingers splayed. Will’s entire focus zeroed in on each point of contact. “I see you as a cursed empath and a gifted agent. An equal. A dear friend.” Hannibal’s next breath came raggedly and Will thought he could feel him tremble. “You shouldn't be my patient anymore, I confess. There is too much of me that gets lost in you.”

It was as though they were the only two in the entirety of the hospital. Everyone else fell away. Barely breathing, Will dared to raise his eyes to Hannibal’s face. He wasn’t sure what he saw there, but it reminded him of hearing the omega wolf’s emotions for the smallest of seconds, asking him if he was okay. It made it hard to breathe. “‘Lost’ in me,” he echoed, with a trace of joking, wanting to lift the mood to their old play. “You flirting with me, Dr. Lecter?”

The side of Hannibal’s mouth edged upward, maroon eyes glinting, but he didn’t comment. Will swallowed, losing his humor as quickly as it had come.

Hannibal took a breath, hand already starting to slip away.“I really should tell Jack—”

_No_ , _wait_. He'd hardly thought it before Will pushed himself up off of the bed, grabbing Hannibal’s hand to keep it at his shoulder. “Wait,” he said aloud, and Hannibal stilled.

He looked at Will carefully, gaze darting to the hand trapping his. Will recognized that guarded look and it made him hurt inside. “I don't want to—” He glanced downward, fumbling for the words. “I don't want to ignore this.”

“Ignore what?” Hannibal asked, and Will flinched.

“Don't.” He couldn't make eye contact anymore. “This is,” he mumbled, “really hard for me.”

It felt like baring open wounds and Hannibal sensed it. Will heard it in the bitterness in his voice. “Is it because I'm an omega?”

Will did make eye contact then. “No,” he answered, and he let the smallest of wolf sink into his words, his mind, bridging between them in the silent way animals spoke. The shivering, fragile emotion in Will’s chest brushed against Hannibal’s mind. His posture shifted, pupils dilating.

He wet his lips. “I'm your psychiatrist.”

“I know,” Will said quietly.

“We shouldn't entertain these…feelings.”

“So there _are_ feelings.”

“Will. I'm serious.”

“So am I.”

Exhaling frustratedly, Hannibal glared at him, but it lacked any bite. Everything about him at this moment lacked any bite; he'd drifted closer to Will, relaxing _just_ enough, tipping his head as though to bare his neck… Will wondered how he'd ever ignored this before.

There was still hesitation though, and Will was growing sick of it. He knew the truth Hannibal wouldn't speak: that he was concerned because he would never be able to truly submit as another omega would.

Well. Will didn't _want_ another omega. And he wasn't like other alphas.

Dropping his hands to his sides to give Hannibal the freedom to move, he tilted his head. The motion opened himself up, showing his throat and lowering his head. He saw Hannibal’s lips part and god, he loved knowing he could surprise him.

“I'm not afraid,” he said simply.

Something warm lit up those old-wine eyes and Hannibal shook his head. “No, I think _stubborn_ is the word I'd use to describe you right now,” he chuckled.

“You always say that.” Will’s smile faltered, as Hannibal suddenly slid his hand up his neck. His fingers met skin and wrapped hotly around to rest over the points where Will’s scent glands were. It was where he would be marked if he mated and the vulnerability of it had him trying to find air.

“You don't mind being made vulnerable by me,” Hannibal observed aloud, softly. He closed their distance by a step, watching Will all the while. “But I should have known you're not as weak an alpha as others…”

“Of course not.” Will mirrored Hannibal’s amused half-smirk and lifted his chin. “I've been attacked twice by wolves now, remember?”

“I do,” Hannibal near-breathed, dropping his head to lean his forehead against Will’s.

Will practically melted. _What're_ _we_ _doing_? “Did it impress you?”

“‘Infuriated’ is more accurate.”

“I'm fine now,” Will felt the need to assure. “Like I said, I can take it.”

Hannibal’s smile widened to show teeth. “Brave boy,” he murmured, and the nickname had Will shivering with delight.

Their noses brushed, accidental on Will’s part, and Hannibal glanced down at his mouth. Even with all of their time together, with all of their dancing around one another, Will realized that he'd never dared to give thought to kissing Hannibal. He sure as hell did now, and his pulse jumped when Hannibal lifted his hands to cup his face. “Hannibal,” he whispered pleadingly, and Hannibal inhaled, slow, as though tasting Will’s want before he angled his head—

The screech of the curtain rungs skating open drove them apart at once. For a panicky second, Will expected Crawford, but no. It was only his nurse, chirping an apologetic greeting as she made to check his equipment and IV. She scurried between them as though it was nothing, widening their distance. Will could still feel the weight of Hannibal's hands on him and he wondered if they'd touched long enough for his scent to linger.Swallowing in frustration, he glanced over her back to Hannibal, patient and polite by a chair. Not a trace of anything in his smoothed features. But then he caught Will’s gaze and the heady promise behind those burnt eyes set Will’s blood afire.

They were going to be absolute shit at their jobs now, weren't they?


	7. Won’t be long before i cave in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ““I would have to insist that you stop seeing me as your psychiatrist.” Then a stupid wave of doubt made him pause. “That is, if you wanted something to come of it. If you didn't want—”
> 
> “I want you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowww, a giant apology to you guys on this one... I fell out of the fandom for a while and then back in, I’m sorry. :(  
> I hope you guys still wanna know what happens! Your comments mean a lot to me, and thank you for such support

An entire day passed before they saw each other again. It was actually unexpected. Will wasn’t scheduled for an appointment that day and their recent case was over and done with. So Hannibal had been expecting a quiet day at his own office and the regular drone of patients.

The latest had only just left, when he heard another knock at the door. Much too early for the next visitor. Frowning, he stood from his chair and smoothed down the front of his suit jacket. “Come in,” he called, pitch going a bit awry on the _in_ , when he saw Will Graham poking his head around the door. Hannibal was back in the hospital room all at once, Will’s breath mingling with his own. “Will. I didn’t realize you’d be coming in today.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to,” Will admitted, tentative as he shuffled into the room. “I’m not in the way of anyone else, am I? I don’t know when you usually…”

“Not at all. I have at least an hour before my next patient, so we should have plenty of time to discuss whatever you’d like.”

“Oh. Good.” A barest of smiles teased Will’s mouth. He moved like he was testing the push of air against him, as though some barrier might appear at any second to keep him from getting too close. What had gone unspoken and undone in the hospital filled the space up between them and kept him subdued across the room.

Hannibal longed to break through it to Will’s side and hold him close enough to feel his heartbeat and carry his scent, so that anyone anywhere would know who he belonged to. _But he doesn’t really belong to you._

“Did Crawford send you?” Hannibal asked, aiming for the safety of small talk. “Is there another case you wish me to weigh in on?”

“No, nothing like that,” Will answered. “It’s been quiet.”

“Good. After your last encounter with a killer, I’m glad to hear it.”

Will gave a half-laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.” His behavior was so soft, the introverted side of him dominating his mannerisms. The white shirt and shoulder holster were absent, replaced by jeans (Hannibal had not yet seen Will in jeans and filed it away in a room of his mind palace) and a light grey sweater, sleeves pushed up. He was already small, scruffy, for an alpha and the clothes only enhanced that, and he was beautiful.

Will took a breath, as though bracing himself. “So. Are we going to talk about what happened? Or not?”

_Steady, Hannibal._ “You mean what happened at the hospital,” he guessed.

To his credit, Will’s eyes never strayed from Hannibal’s, icy, brilliant blue. “Yes.”

There were only so many ways this should be handled and a great many ways that Hannibal _wanted_ to handle it. One of which entailed pinning Will against his desk.He shook his head slightly. “I can't pretend it would be professional of us,” he hedged. “I would have to insist that you stop seeing me as your psychiatrist.” Then a stupid wave of doubt made him pause. “That is, if you wanted something to come of it. If you didn't want—”

“I want you.”

The way it was said, simple, but with an undercurrent of desire, brought Hannibal up short. He was acutely aware that Will had somehow gotten closer to him during their conversation, a mere yard at most separating them. The urge to scent the air and taste his want left Hannibal’s fingers trembling. Instead, he gave Will a rueful smile. “And I, you,” he admitted, noting the rise of Will’s chest at the confession. Hannibal searched for any last scrap of sense. “You do realize what could happen, should this fall into the wrong hands. Lounds would—”

“Fuck Lounds,” Will said abruptly.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows,“I’d thought you’d want to keep his material on you to a minimum.”

“And I’d thought you’d be kissing me by now.”

Hannibal barely had any time to process this, as Will had crossed that last barrier to him and tugged him in by the lapels of his jacket. His mouth was soft and desperate against Hannibal’s, months’ worth of longing making him reckless. His teeth scraped accidentally over Hannibal’s lower lip and it was like a match being set off. Hardly aware of himself, Hannibal cradled Will’s jaw in his hands and met his fervent kisses with slower, deeper ones. He wanted to slow Will down, wrestle his control back. But Will seemed to sense that and was having none of it.

In a wave of emotion, Will opened up his mind to him. The connection between wolves bloomed and Hannibal could feel every secret want between them. “Will,” he warned, forcing himself to break away. 

“I want you,” Will repeated, breaths ragged, “and I want you to feel it.”

Forgetting himself, Hannibal growled and forced Will backward. He didn't stop until Will was back against the door and he could kiss the breath from him. The wood creaked under Will’s back and he failed to hold back his tiny whimper. At once, Hannibal pulled back, sliding a hand around the back of Will’s head to act as a cushion. “I'm sorry, that was careless of me,” he managed.

“I don't mind,” Will replied breathlessly. He smoothed his palms up the front of Hannibal’s suit, thumbing over his collar as though thinking of loosening it. “I like you careless.”

_You make me careless_. Rather than dare to voice those words, Hannibal tipped his head and nosed beneath Will’s jaw. It was terribly vulnerable there, but Will didn't seem to mind at all. He even tilted his head to give Hannibal better access, sighing as lips brushed over his pulse point. No one had trusted Hannibal like this before, let alone an alpha, and he reveled in it. “I should hope you won't have another case for us to work anytime soon,” he remarked, mouth skimming with careful lightness across Will’s neck. His scent was strongest there, and it took all of Hannibal’s willpower not to try and find out if he tasted just as good.

Will leaned into him, arms draped around Hannibal’s shoulders. “Why’s that?” he asked, voice unsteady. “Don't wanna work with me anymore, Doctor?”

“No,” Hannibal chuckled. “But I'm sure Jack wouldn't appreciate me tagging along anymore.”

“Why?”

Drawing back, Hannibal met Will’s gaze, not bothering to mask the heat in his own expression. “I doubt I'll be getting any work done with you around.”

Will darted forward to catch his mouth again, coaxing Hannibal to press him further into the door. Their bodies brushed, static electricity, and somehow one of Hannibal’s hands had fallen to grip Will’s hip. Dizzily, he thought again that he should slow himself down. One kiss from Will left him reeling in a way he hadn't experienced with anyone else. He didn't want to lose himself like this and more importantly, he didn't want to rush this. But Will certainly wasn't complaining, was running his fingers through Hannibal’s hair as he kissed him, and Hannibal couldn't pull away. His fingertips nudged under the hem of Will’s sweater and grazed the bare skin above his waistband. Will’s little gasp in response only made him want to press for more, but—

“Dr. Lecter?” A hesitant voice, a patient’s voice, and then a knock. From the other side of the door Will was currently pinned against.

The two froze. Will blinked up at Hannibal in confusion, and Hannibal gave a regretful sigh. He'd recognized this one, she liked to try to come obnoxiously early to appointments.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Barnes?” he asked, straightening his jacket and stepping back. Will’s eyes tracked the distance between them and Hannibal felt a warm flicker of affection.

Will let him open the door for Jillian Barnes, Hannibal’s more frustrating patient, and she smiled up at him. “Oh, I hope I'm not _too_ early for you, I know it's short notice,” the old woman gushed. “I just—well, something’s happened with my son, and I was hoping we could—oh!” She stuttered in surprise at the sight of Will peering around Hannibal from inside the office. “I'm so sorry! I didn't realize you were meeting with someone!”

“You’re fine, um.” Will glanced between them. “I was just leaving; not a patient, just a—friend.” His fingers danced an idle pattern across the small of Hannibal’s back at the word _friend_. Hannibal would've elbowed him if it wouldn't risk behaving like teenagers in front of a patient. Will sent him a half-grin, cheeky. “See you, Hannibal.”

“‘Hannibal?’” Ms. Barnes echoed, dumbstruck.

Hannibal fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Goodbye, Will.”

Giving Ms. Barnes a small nod, Will slipped past her out the door. Eyes comically wide behind her glasses, she leaned back a bit to watch him leave. “ _I_ don’t get to call you by your first name,” she sniffed. “Is he a regular?”

Hannibal indulged her with an amused smile. “Something like that.”

Shuffling past him, she mumbled to herself, “I gotta come here more often.”


End file.
